


Disorder

by Silivrenelya



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Distance, Doubt (tons of), Editor-in-chief!Hux, Flashbacks, Fluff, M/M, Milan (City), Modern AU, Open Ending, Paris (City), Trader!Ben, slight drinking (champagne), slight infidelity, slight smoking, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 18:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7768486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silivrenelya/pseuds/Silivrenelya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's true, their worlds are complete opposites. On the one hand, the discipline and binarity of numbers, calculations, computers. On the other, the irrationality and splendor of fashion, flashes, glossy paper.</p><p>It's raining tonight in Paris.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disorder

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kitseybarbours](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitseybarbours/gifts).
  * A translation of [Désordre](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7732318) by [Silivrenelya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silivrenelya/pseuds/Silivrenelya). 



> Written on and inspired by this song : ["We Don't Talk Anymore"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3AtDnEC4zak)  
> I'd like to immensely thank my Darling [KitseyBarbours](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kitseybarbours) who corrected all my dumb mistakes, and enhanced this entire story. She is an amazing writer as well as an awesome friend. Basically, all the cool stuff is her doing. Thank you Sydni. <3  
> I'd also like to thank [ Mioka](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Mioka) for giving me her precious advices and suggestions. Thank you!! <3

  
It's raining tonight in Paris.

When Ben Solo closes the door behind him, a few drops of rain have lost themselves in his ebony hair. He drops his keys off in the foyer of the spacious apartment he shares with his fiancé, the famous Armitage Hux, and takes off his concrete-gray jacket. The same colour as the walls he rubs shoulders with all day, and often part of the night; the same colour as the floor he strides along for hours, in search of the next idea-of-the-century that will revolutionize the financial world. The job of a trader is an obscure one, and misunderstood — too often because of the traders themselves.

_Ding._

Ben takes his phone out of his pocket and goes to sit on the couch. The couch Hux had wanted custom-made.

_'Hey, I hope your day went well. Still at work here. Weather hot and wet. Too many models. Ugh. Anyway. Gotta go. Keep in touch. x'_

A sigh escapes Ben’s lips. Eyes riveted on the little screen, he clenches his jaw.

Yet another night alone.

*

“Here, look at me, nice, perfect— bend a little? Niiiice, perfect.”

After having sent his message, Armitage Hux drops his phone on the patio table. It's a beautiful place. Milan's sky is painted a lovely dark indigo tonight. The gorgeous villa in which he is standing belongs to the photographer Dopheld Mitaka, a sweet specimen with a Japanese father and an Italian mother. A rather pleasing combination, in his opinion. But he didn't come for that. He is here to supervise the shoot of his September issue's cover, for his unisex fashion magazine **ORDER**. Usually, he never does things at the last minute (issues are finished at least three months before their publishing), but this season has been very busy. He’s had precious little alone time with Ben, if any time at all.

He crosses his arms. Standing, staring, he sighs while watching the models pose.

Even standing still, he can feel the thin layer of sweat sticking to his skin under his linen shirt, his cotton chino pants. His large Prada glasses slide down his nose. He pushes them up distractedly, keeping an eye on the shoot. His slicked-back, flaming-red hair is starting to grow tired, and a rebellious strand falls across his forehead.

He has no time for this shit anymore. The problem, when you become the youngest editor-in-chief ever of a famous magazine, is that things that are supposed to exhaust you after many years come your way much faster than expected. And it's even more unbearable when your trader fiancé — the date of your last night together with whom you can hardly recall — is alone in your house. And when you’re not sure if this man is even still sharing your interests, your ambitions, your fears.

It's true, their worlds are complete opposites. On the one hand, the discipline and binarity of numbers, calculations, computers. On the other, the irrationality and splendor of fashion, flashes, glossy paper.

But isn't it this that make them so unique?

His azure gaze drops to the champagne flutes, lined up on the patio table.

“ _Again, thanks to everyone for coming_ — _and so many of you!_ _Mr Skywalker was a great man as well as a genius creator. Not a day passes where we don’t remember his legacy. Cheers!”  
_

“ _Cheers!”hundreds of voices answer._

_Hux brings the flute to his lips. Confident in his twenty-nine years of age and brand-new position as editor-in-chief of **ORDER** , he sips his champagne, standing at the back of the room.  
_

_He knows most of the faces present this evening. Except, maybe, this harsh and brooding young man who moves towards him, accompanied by Leia Organa and Han Solo, star couple of the fashion world for years.  
_

_This evening, five years ago, he met Ben Solo, freshly promoted executive assistant for one of the biggest trading firms in Paris.  
_

“Hux! I think we're done here, if you wanna have a look?”

Pulled out of his daydreaming, Hux lifts his head up and focuses on the patio again, the indigo, the heat. He strides confidently towards the photographer while the models sprawl out, yawning, and scrutinizes the pictures on the computer that’s connected to the camera. He can already imagine the titles, the colours, the themes. He bites his lower lip distractedly, arms still crossed.

“Okay, it'll do. Thanks, Taka,” he says briefly.

The models go to change, and Mitaka meets him at the table.

“By the way, we thought about having a little after-party tonight, just to, you know, chill a bit, relax. Nothing too fancy, don't worry,” the brunet offers, casting a sideways glance at Hux, bent over the table with a hand pressed on its edge.

Hux clenches his jaw. Of course it's nothing too fancy. It's _never_ anything too fancy. And of course he's going to say yes, because connections are paramount in this world, and he cannot afford to say no. Not after the last-minute help the photographer has provided, with his villa and his talents.

“With pleasure, Taka. Thank you for today, you've been great.” he answers, still staring at the screen.

*

“Hello?”

“Ben, my friend! What've you been up to since earlier? We're going for a drink with the guys from work; you wanna come?”

This voice belongs to Poe Dameron, second assistant manager, a man with a kind and simple beauty that exactly matches his temperament.

Ben bites the inside of his cheek, thinking. He could go out, clear his mind a little. He could. He strokes his engagement ring distractedly against his phone, his eyes fixed straight ahead.

“I'm on my way. Where are you?”

When he pushes open the door of the bar, he instantly starts to look for his colleagues. The lighting is smooth and the alcohol flows smoothly. He strides forward and examines the tables before finding Poe.

“ 'With the workmates', huh? ” Ben says ironically, sitting down beside him. Poe is alone at the table.

“Yeah, well, you know how they are, those morons always ditch us at the last minute!” Poe answers, waving a dismissive hand. “So, what're you drinking?”

Ben tells him his order and Poe goes up for their drinks. Ben sighs again, passes a hand over his face, stops it on his mouth. He's aware that Poe’s interested in him —this has been going on for a while now — but he really did think the others would be here. He blinks slowly, then removes his hand when Poe comes back and puts their drinks on the table. A reflection shines off his watch and Ben's eyes drop to it.

“ _Are you serious?! Do you realize what you've just done?! Fuck, I can't believe it.”_

_Ben leans out the window of a great Parisian reception room. Hux has just thrown his watch from the twelfth floor, smirking and looking smug as hell._

“ _Of course I do. But I'm rich and famous. I'll be offered a new one,” Hux answers, leaning against the glass and shrugging._

_Indignation replaces surprise on Ben's features. He frowns, and a disappointed pout appears on his mouth. He rushes through the room filled with colleagues –  those who witnessed their exchange looking somewhat shocked – and hurries down the staircase._

_Once on the street, in front of the imposing building right in the middle of La Défense, he examines the ground in search of the fallen watch . When his eye catches a glimpse of diamond shine, he moves forward and crouches to pick up the Swarovski watch._

_On this day, four years ago, Ben Solo realized he was dating a man without limits.  
_

“Annnd, here, for you! Cheers!” Poe exclaims, clinking his drink against Hux’s, his face friendly and open.

Pulled out of his memories, Ben clinks glasses with him, smiling, casting a glance at the cracked dial of the watch on his own wrist.

*

The party is starting to struggle. The models are leaving, one after another, in a state of certain inebriation. Hux sits on the large sofa in the living room, drink in hand. The heat is slowly dissipating, but the dampness remains. He swallows; he can't stop worrying at his bottom lip. He brushes his left ring finger against his glass, producing a faint metallic sound.

Mitaka falls lightly onto the couch beside him. He throws an arm up and puts it on the sofa's back,watching Hux for a moment before asking, “Hux, is everything all right? You seem a little dreamy.”

Hux gives a brief smile before he answers, “I'm okay. Just tired.”

“Mm, I understand... Things seem like they’re pretty crazy for you, now that you're in charge. Are you sure you're handling everything all right, or...?”

The tone he uses is almost sympathetic. If Hux hadn’t been in the business for this long, he could have believed it.

“The pace has definitely picked up, but, well, it’s _nothing too fancy,_ ” he retorts, gazing at the brunet's face.

His hair is almost the same colour as Ben's.

Hux digs his forearm into the sofa's armrest and looks around. The villa is now empty; only they remain. His sky-blue gaze sinks back into Mitaka's. Funny how he almost finds him handsome from here.

“You sure? You seem a little... I don't know, on edge, maybe..?” Dopheld murmurs, nibbling his bottom lip.

With his navy polo shirt and his white chinos, his face open, almost childish, with that understanding gaze — right here, right now, he seems so... kindly. So... _present_.

A faint laugh escapes Hux. “We wouldn't work in this business if we didn't like to be a little _on edge_ all the time, you know that,” he answers.

Mitaka snickers a little, still smirking

“That's true...” he says, his dark eyes lingering on Hux’s pale face, his freckles.

Hux’s smile disappears when Mitaka lays a hand on his thigh.

*

His smile disappears when Poe lays a hand on his thigh.

Ben nearly chokes on his sip of beer when he feels the touch on his leg. He quickly recovers and turns towards Poe, furrowing his brows.

“Poe...”

“I know, I know,” he begins, raising his hands in surrender. “It's just that— your guy, your _fiancé_ ; I never see him with you, you're always on your own, and I think it's such a waste. I mean, look at you, Ben. Don't you think you deserve better..?”

Dameron seems both angry and uncomfortable. Ben feels his irritation rising. This is his personal life; no one has the right to say anything about it.  _He’s_ the one in _his_ relationship.

He’s going to give a curt riposte, but he feels his breath catch. Release itself. He settles for a frown and gets up to leave. He takes his jacket and throws it over his shoulder, shooting Poe a dirty look. The latter sighs and tries to make up for it:

“Man, look, I'm sorry. It's none of my business, I shouldn't have said it  like that. I— I'm just worried about you, okay?” Poe flinches, guilty. He seems to mean what he says.

Ben clenches his jaw and strides nonetheless towards the exit. Poe hastily follows him, rolling his eyes.

Once outside, leaning on a wall, Dameron takes out a cigarette and sticks it between his lips. He quickly lights it and exhales anxiously, brushing a hand through his hair. Ben scrutinizes him, as if searching for an answer he hopes desperately to find. They look at each other for a while without a word, clouded by the smoke.

The rain has stopped.

_What if Poe’s right?  
_

What if what Ben really needs is someone _present_ , just like Poe is, right here, right now?

_What if..._

*

“Taka.”

“I know, I know...” Mitaka  murmurs, pinching his lips together. He lowers his gaze, seems to think about something; then lifts it, determined.

His second hand lands on the nape of Hux’s neck, and then he leans towards him, capturing his lips.

*

In a sudden fury, Ben abruptly moves toward Poe, pulls the cigarette from his mouth, puts his right hand against the wall and captures his lips. He only frowns when his colleague starts to respond.

Ben steps back just as suddenly as he’d lunged forward. He lowers his head and lands a shaking hand on his mouth. His left ring finger feels cold against his lips.

*

“Hux, I'm sorry,” Mitaka defends himself immediately after Hux has pushed him away. Both of Hux's hands are outstretched, resting against the other man’s torso. Hux’s gaze is wary, almost scared.

From here, he has a perfect view of his left ring finger, and the silver shines on the navy polo shirt.

*

No. No, this is not what he needs. Not at all.

*

No. No, this is not what he needs. Not at all.

Hux gathers his stuff and leaves the villa. He wants to leave this city, leave Milan. He wants to see Ben. Only Ben.

When he arrives, breathless, at the airport, he books the first flight to Paris.

*

When Ben Solo closes the apartment door behind him, he is exhausted. He sinks back into the sofa, picks up his phone again. No new messages. He throws the phone away from him and drops his face in his hands, elbows on his knees, bent over, worn out.

Why did they risk this? Why did they bet on two people so different from each other? He, the nerd, top of his class, the “math brain” or the “broken brain” according to opinions. And Hux, the genius, the extravagant, the creative. They should have switched parents. He had never understood the hype surrounding his grandfather or even his own parents. Hux's, for their part, have never understood the passionate following their son has attracted, both of them being in the financial world. His fiancé is surrounded by beautiful people, beautiful things, constantly desired, admired, exhibited. Ben doesn't even know about social media or the meaning of “colorimetry”.

Slowly, he brushes over  his ring with his right middle finger. He hasn't even switched the light on, but the band is still shining.

*

When Armitage Hux closes the door behind him, he is exhausted. He softly drops his keys on the table in the entrance and takes off his shoes and jacket. He deposits the latter on the sofa and catches sight of Ben's phone, cast away on the cushions. He moves forward and takes it, then places it on the coffee table.

When he finally lays down in bed, ready to go to sleep, he dares not touch Ben.

His fiancé is resting with his back to him. Hux can only see his bare sides moving along his breathing.

“You're home.”

Hux nearly startles when he hears Ben's whisper. (He also hears his pain, his distress — his relief.)

Hux sighs and places a simple kiss on Ben’s shoulder. Then, his lips still on his skin, he murmurs:

“I'm home.”

*

It rained tonight in Paris.

 

**Author's Note:**

> \- Sili  
> ([silivrenelya.tumblr.com](http://silivrenelya.tumblr.com))


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